patteren: 062307;174
series: magnificat;42

fwd to magnificat;43
back to magnificat;41

Myth (continued)

• • •

"My Lord, my Love, what have I done
to wear these shackles, I, Thy sun?"
A quondam friend, a present fiend!
"My Liege, Thy words are too unkind!"

Thy aid to her thus proves thy guilt,
Our sometime noble, rancid Rain
who sires in darkness his Sire's babes.
Now, be showered with
endless night.

"Dear Sire, my Love! Thou need not right
what is not wrong! My womb is tight
with Thy seed true; legitimate
is this soon brought forth intimate."

• • •

[this poem spans magnificat 33-55, full text here]

 

 

home
about
archive
references
portfolio
store
 
meta
proslogion
los
magnificat
lapsuus